


Midnight rose

by Sharonneke95



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bullying, Canon Compliant, Gen, MCU compliant, Not the Black Order from Infinity War, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Proxima Midnight's home planet, Scarcity, Young-adult Proxima, unnamed character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 11:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21506836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharonneke95/pseuds/Sharonneke95
Summary: Scarcity is a big issue on Proxima's planet. It leads not only to hunger and fear, it also gives certain people the opportunity to treat others like trash. Proxima is tired of being told who she is allowed to be, while others can just do whatever they want. Her people are suffering and she hates feeling helpless. If Thanos arrives and offers her the opportunity to make a change, to give her people a chance of overcoming the scarcity, she has to decide who she wants to be.This story tells the tale of how Proxima Midnight became part of the Black Order.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Story of Chance Fest





	Midnight rose

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!
> 
> This is the first fanfic I post here. I hope I did everything okay with the tags and info and all. Feel free to tell me if I didn't. This piece was written for The Story Of Chance Fest, organised by ~Muse~ on Facebook. The prompts were:  
> Title: Midnight rose  
> Fandom: Marvel  
> Dialogue: Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.
> 
> English isn't my first language and this has not been beta-read, so my apologies to any mistakes that might have slipped through.
> 
> Enjoy the read! <3

"If it isn't little Prox, trying her hands on the men's toys again." 

Proxima sighed, lowering the sword she was hacking away at a wooden log with, and slowly turned around, tucking away the dark blue strands of her hair that had fallen forward during her latest session of stress relief. It wasn't very surprising to see Rixator standing there, just out of reach of her sword. Proxima smirked at that. So he had learned from the last time he decided to bother her during training. 

"What do you want?" she asked curtly. 

Rixator stepped closer, probably noticing the fearsome sword wasn't near enough to do harm. He was barely taller than her, but he was three times as broad. And five times as stupid, Proxima would always say when someone pointed out those facts. 

"It's not what I want, it's what you should do. Women are not allowed here. Not allowed to train. Not allowed to carry weapons." 

"I believe I showed you last time that those stupid rules of yours don't make any sense." Proxima looked him right in the eye, something else 'women shouldn't do' according to Rixator. She longed back for the time when women were just as valuable as men. Where everyone could be a warrior, as long as they had the skills to prove it. She then shoved him backwards and stepped away, towards where she had dropped her bag earlier. Maybe this time she could get away without him stalling her. She had to get home soon anyway. 

Rixator was on her even before she could have picked up her bag. Proxima shrugged mentally. Then again, she did feel like taking a proper training. 

She blocked his first blow instinctively, readied her stance and took a better grip on her own sword. His fighting style was primitive and harsh, but his strength made more than up for his lack of refinement. He definitely was one of the better warriors in town, not in the least because of his ruthlessness. 

Proxima parried another few blows, mostly by redirecting his swings and dancing out of range. It was a strategy that drove him mad, but she couldn't keep it up for too long if she didn't want to tire herself out. That was a mistake she had made too often before, back when they would go easy on her because she was still a girl. But the deep scars on her arms and back proved that that time had passed. And she was grateful for it. No better teacher than that which rendered you vulnerable to your enemy for a couple of days. 

It was at an upwards blow from Rixator that she switched tactics, stepping out of the way and letting his own forceful attack bring him out of balance. She then took the upper hand, raining blow after blow on him, barely giving him time to block. She changed direction after every swing, stopped a movement as soon as she felt the resistance of his sword and kept her footing light. It wasn't long before he could barely keep up with her moves, acting just slightly too late to properly block a swing. Proxima then feinted to attack from a high angle on the left side, to then actually attack in a low, stabbing manner on the right. 

Rixator's sword was nowhere near hers as she sliced his skin, making sure it drew blood and would make movement uncomfortable for a few days, but keeping it from doing any further permanent damage other than leaving a scar. He apparently needed another reminder that she was not to be messed with. 

He stumbled, only regaining his balance after a few steps. Looking around, making sure no one has seen his demise, he growled before turning her a hateful stare. "You filthy whore! You know you'll pay for that! The guild will not hesitate to cut your share for this." 

Proxima rolled her eyes at that. As if she wasn't already down to the bare minimums after being caught doing 'un-woman-ly' things one too many times. Her faded and ripped clothes were proof of that. Still, she figured it best to lay low for a while. As Rixator left the training building, she once again turned to her bag, this time actually picking it up, wrapping her sword in one of the rags that she carried, before strapping the whole bundle over her shoulder. 

Sneaking out unseen was easy; she had done it many times before and would probably keep doing it for as long as the building was under the rules of men like Rixator and his gang. Her destination was only a few buildings away from there. It was more of a cabin than an actual house, but the weather never got too cold for that difference to matter. The only positive side to being stuck on this part of the accursed planet. 

The door creaked a little when she entered and she mentally noted that she should go out later, under the cover of darkness, to find some arvinium leaves to grease the hinges. Once inside, she dropped her bag unceremoniously and lowered her sword to rest on top of it. The inside of the two-room building was dark, as there were no real windows. The only sources of light were the holes in the wall, right under the roof. It was part of the charm, of why Proxima loved to stay in this specific building, and why others stayed away from it. Okay, that last was also due to the fact that this building was claimed by one of the elders from the guild, Cardotius. Everyone respected the members of the guild, up to the point that they would do everything to get into their good graces. Like sleeping on the street to allow them their privacy, instead of calling them out upon the rule that all available buildings were to be shared by as many as it could hold, to keep everyone safe and healthy. 

Cardotius had opened his home to Proxima long ago, when she was still a little girl who had just lost her parents and who was shunned from the rest of the family, the community even, for not being what they expected from a girl. He had welcomed her when she was desperate, teaching her how to survive in the man-driven society that was trying to make her into something she never was and never would be fit for. 

"Little Midnight, let me guess. You once again fought someone of the gang." It wasn't as much of a question as it was a statement from someone who knew her all too well. 

Proxima turned towards the doorway with a small smile on her face after hearing his age-old nickname for her. "Hi to you too, Car." 

The man shook his head lightly and stepped fully into the room. He could apparently read what had happened from her face. Either that or Rixator had been very quick to tattle on her. "You know you shouldn't tempt the fates like this. They were only just starting to calm down after your last fight with half of the guildmembers-to-be." 

Proxima shrugged. "What would they do? Cut my shares? You know they already give me the bare minimums." 

The older man shook his head. “You do realise that if you keep acting out against them, they might do something worse than make you live in poverty, don't you? You're considered an adult now, no longer under the protection of your age.” He sighed tiredly. "I just want you to be careful, Midnight. You ought to think about what you really want from your life, now you've reached adulthood." He saw she was about to interrupt, still a little riled up from her fight as she was. "No, you know I don't mean settling down with a man. I mean figuring out what you want. You know you cannot keep spending your days hiding here, sneaking into the training facility, and 'harvesting' food, if that's what you want to call it." 

Proxima reigned in. "You're right. But how am I supposed to do that? I barely know what I'll be eating at night." 

Cardotius walked over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It will come to you. All you need to do is keep your eyes open and take the chance." 

He then walked over to the door. "I was called in for a meeting, no doubt about your stunt from today," he added with a slight smile. "Anything I should know beforehand?" 

The woman shrugged at that. "Nothing besides the usual. He made the first move when I was turning away though." 

With a hand on the door handle, Cardotius nodded solemnly. "I doubt they'll believe that, but you know I will do my best. Be careful, will you?" 

It was Proxima's turn to smile at that. "Aren't I always?" 

~~~~~

Guild meetings were known to take a long time. Proxima's fallout with Rixator sure would not be the only thing to discuss. They would save up the minor issues until one became pressing or there were too many to put off, preventing that those members who had to travel far would have to make the trip for matters that were hardly worth their time. If an issue would arise that could not wait until later, they would also take the smaller problems into account. 

That's why Proxima was still alone in the little cabin by the time everything surrounding her had fallen into deep darkness. It didn't diminish her vision too much, not with the ability to see through the darkness that her people had been known and feared for, back in the days of old, when everything was plenty and her people were something to be proud of. 

Proxima did not want to wait for Cardotius' return, however. By the time the meeting would end, there would once again be crowds everywhere and she'd have to wait even longer to sneak out unseen. So she left, hoping Cardotius would not worry too much about her not being there when he came home. 

It didn't take her too long to get to the forest, leaving the bustle of nightlife behind. At the treeline she stood up straight, not having to try hard to blend in with the shadows. This was her terrain, where she felt completely in her element. No one surrounding her but the friendly creatures of the forest. Or well, friendly... As long as they were left alone. The female warrior definitely understood that, which is why she had brought her sword, tied loosely around her waist with some strung up cloths. 

From the outskirts of the forest, it was a rough half-hour walk until the fields where she knew the arvinium could be found. There was another place she could harvest it that was closer by, but seeing how she now finally was out of the oppressive atmosphere that she experienced at home, she decided to take the long route, which would lead her right along a collection of bushes with her favourite fruit. Those rations they gave her were barely enough to fill her up, let along satisfy the hidden sweet tooth she had. 

She had never had the opportunity to learn the name of the fruit, having stumbled across it by accident. It wasn't something that would ever be served at home, not for those who lived in poverty at least. Maybe those who could afford it were able to trade it somehow. She picked one and dug in. Enjoying how the sweet juices felt on her tongue, she crossed the bridge and continued to the clearing where she knew she’d find the arvinium. 

The bright yellow plant wasn't too difficult to spot among the browns, blacks and dark greens. Proxima threw the leftover from her fruit into one of the bushes and kneeled down. Very carefully, making sure the poisonous flowers would not touch her hands, she picked some of the leaves, cursing colourfully when one of the thorns pricked her. 

Once she had grabbed a handful, she turned around, only to dive back down as a weapon was swung at her for the second time that day. She rolled away, both from her assailant as well as the arvinium flowers, dropped the leaves she had gathered and drew her own sword, all in a somewhat fluent motion. She then swung at whoever it was that was attacking her, to give herself some more time to gather her wits. 

Her opponent was tall, with very light skin and even lighter hair that was braided and reached down to below the man’s shoulders. He had four eyes, which Proxima thought quite an unfair advantage in combat, and small spikes all across his limbs. 

Before she could study him any further, he took a swing, which she redirected as she had done with Rixator. That one swing was enough to tell her that Rixator was a mere apprentice compared to her current opponent. She'd be having a hard time holding this man off for long. 

That conclusion made her lunge for him, throwing herself at him with all her offensive strength and skills. He parried her moves quite easily, but she was fast enough to not allow him to attack. No matter how hard she tried, though, she could not find a weakness to exploit. He would lower his guard slightly when she'd aim low but have his defences back up in time to block her high moves. His footwork mirrored her own, stepping away every time she would come in. She had to do something that would surprise him and she had to do it quickly. Her arms were getting tired already. 

She moved to the left, only to hit him on the right, before dropping to the ground and rolling over so she stood between him and the field of arvinium. Proxima took a few steps back as her assailant turned, taunting him to attack with a smile on her face. He growled and charged at her, in what seemed to be almost full speed. Right before he got into sword range, she dove down, out of his way. His weight propelled him a little more forward, allowing Proxima to hook her foot onto his and making him fall face forward, right into the arvinium. If the screams were anything to go by, the plant was just as poisonous to him as it would be to her. 

There was no time for her to dwell on it, because a man and a girl appeared in her view, both sporting sharp and what seemed to be advanced weapons. The man was short-snouted, with ears on the top of his head, while the girl with her dark grey complexion looked like she could have come from the other side of the forest. Both were shorter than her but swung with a fierceness that spoke of revenge for their fallen comrade, yet neither of the two was just as skilled him. Still, their moves complemented each other in a way that made it difficult for Proxima to keep up. 

There was a rhythm to the pair's movement that was not too obvious at first, allowing Proxima to make an offensive move as well every now and then. None of her attacks were too difficult to block, but with her advantage in height, the force she put in every attack was draining them. The man missed a beat in the dance he and his partner were delivering, and Proxima took advantage of it, plunging her sword into his stomach. 

The man fell as she drew her weapon back. She wasn't sure he was dead but she sure as Hennum was not going to wait to find out. Either way, she revelled in taking him out of the fight. 

With that extra strength, Proxima turned around, standing taller than she ever had before. The grey girl took another swing but was held back by a voice calling out. "Stop." 

The girl, although Proxima now figured it had to be more of a woman with that well-rounded figure, immediately stood still, as if frozen in place, before lowering her weapon and turning towards the voice. She never fully turned away from Proxima, too well-trained to ever turn her back to an opponent dangerous enough to kill. 

From behind some of the larger bushes in the field, a man appeared. He had purple skin and golden armour and he was larger than any two-legged creature she had ever seen. He held himself as if he knew his mere appearance was enough to make people quiver, to make them fall in line with him. 

He spoke as he walked closer. "She has cost you two brothers already. I will not let you fall to her, too." The girl relaxed slightly at that, kneeling next to her fallen ally. Proxima paid no attention to her, keeping an eye on what she deemed to be the bigger threat instead. 

He stopped a few paces away; close enough to be intimidating but far away to not pose an immediate danger. He held his arms open in a soothing gesture. "We mean no harm. It has come to our attention that your planet is suffering. That your people are suffering. We are here to help." 

Proxima scoffed at that but gave no answer. The man spoke again. "Would you deny it then?" At that she shrugged. 

"Well then. Please allow us to explain ourselves. We might be of use to each other. My name is Thanos. What may we call you?" 

Her first instinct was to tell her own name, but she quickly repressed that. No way she was giving these people anything. Not a few heartbeats ago they were trying to get her killed. Instead, she said the first thing that came to her mind. "Midnight." 

"Midnight," the man repeated. It sounded weird, coming out of his mouth. It was then that Proxima realised no one besides Cardotius had ever called her that before. She wasn't yet sure she liked it. 

"Well, Midnight, seeing as how you just managed to incapacitate two of my best fighters, I'll make you an offer. How would you feel about playing a part in the survival of your people, of restoring the balance on this planet?" 

Not being one to draw conversations out, Proxima said only one word. "How?" 

That made Thanos smile. "You see, the problems your people are facing almost all stem from too many people taking up too much space and there being too few resources and too little space to develop more resources for your species to live, to do more than barely survive." 

Proxima couldn't help but nod. She knew that was the issue, but she still had no idea how this man thought he could solve the problem that the guild had been trying to fix for ages. 

Seemingly strengthened by her confirmation, Thanos continued. "The best way to take care of that, to make this planet self-sustaining in a way that allows your people to thrive once more, would be to lower the amount of resources needed drastically. Balance the scales of what is needed and what is left to divide." 

Proxima still wasn't sure what he was aiming at. 

"To lower the amount of those who drain the pile of available resources so heavily," he explained further. 

Then it dawned on her. Kill her people. Many of them. That was what he meant. 

Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Thanos took a step forward, raising his hands again. "Midnight, think about it. Are your people happy? You used to be a species that was known all throughout the galaxy, who were feared and celebrated, who were respected. What changed?" 

He was right, of course, but she still could not wrap her head around the idea. The guild would oppose that heavily. They would have her head and send her to Hennum for even suggesting such a thing. 

Still, Thanos continued. "You could have that again. Be a proud people. You cannot tell me that a warrior like you does not yearn for that. Tell me, do they treat you like the fighter you are? Or can they not see past you being a woman?" 

Proxima's eyes grew wide, even with her trying not to show her thoughts. 

"And they punish you for not behaving the way they want you to? Tell me, Midnight, did they take away the little food you have? The head over your roof? Your clothes sure don't belong on a warrior of your calibre." 

Proxima took a step back, his words having hit home. But instead of backing off, Thanos took another step forward. "That is what always happens. The fight about who has a say in what should happen always turns unfair. The people lay their fate into the wrong hands, follow the wrong people. And then it's nothing but a downward spiral. And all that because of too little food and too little shelter." 

He let that sink in and sink in it did. Proxima realised he was right. Everything that was wrong with her people today was in some way caused by the scarcity. The people would do anything to make sure they and their families would get enough food, even if it meant another family starving to death. They would fight over scraps, not caring who got hurt. The bullying, the discrimination, the deaths, all of that had the same source. And the guild could do nothing to turn the problem around, no matter how long they discussed. Discussing wouldn’t solve anything, Proxima knew that. Action would. But killing half her people? 

Thanos seemed to sense he was close to convincing her. “You cannot tell me there aren’t any who you believe not to be worth the food they receive, without whom you believe your people to be better off.” 

Proxima’s shoulders sagged and she had to look away. That, too, was no less than true. Of course there had been times – Hennum, there still were times! - where she thought about stealing Rixator’s food and giving it to the families with small children he was taunting. Or where she had thought about just how happy she’d be if he and his gang would just die and their food could be redistributed among the poor. She figured that would probably be the most useful they could ever be. But who was she to make that call? 

“Think about it,” Thanos said, stepping away and motioning for the girl who was still kneeling by her partner to follow him. “We could use another fighter like you. Especially now. Answer my call if you have come to a decision.” 

Proxima watched the two bodies lying near her as the two still living beings slowly walked away. She must have stood there, lost in her own mind, for quite a while, because when she looked back up, there was no more sign from Thanos or the girl. Only the bodies and the dirt on her sword indicated that what just had happened had been real. 

In a daze, Proxima found the arvinium leaves she had plucked and started the walk home. She had nearly passed the treeline when she came back to herself, completely having missed passing the bridge and the fruits. She sighed to herself before blending in with the shadows again, towards Cardotius’ cabin. 

~~~~~

Cardotius was already inside and as expected, he looked quite worried. Proxima wanted to offer a half-meant apology, but the wise old man cut her off. “It is none of my business, but it may become that soon. They allowed me to bring you the news. Ordered me really.” 

He looked hesitant to continue, so Proxima stepped closer, face solemn. Cardotius was never hesitant to speak his mind to her, trust and truthfulness formed the foundation of their relationship. “I know you tried your best to defend me and that the verdict isn’t solely yours. So, what is it this time? No food for a week? Hand in all my belongings? Another ban from the training facility?” 

He looked her in the eye, the apology clear to read. Then he looked away and steeled himself. “They are giving you their final warning. If you cross the line again, you will be banished for a year.” He took a deep breath. “You are also to start your new job as a seamstress in two days' time and if you fail to comply there, the punishment will also be banishment.” 

Proxima took a step back in dismay. “Seamstress!?” 

Cardotius sat down on the sole chair in the room. “It was either that or taking care of the little ones. At least now you still get to work with sharp and pointy things?” He said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work very well. 

“This cannot be! Rixator started the fight! And he of course goes free, doesn’t he?” 

Cardotius looked very unhappy about that, bordering on angry. Or at least, Proxima figured that was what angry looked like on the most gentle man she’d ever known. “I tried but with his father being a member of the guild, too, there was no way to get them to punish him with more than a ‘severe reprimand from his father’, which we both know means them laughing at us for trying and failing again to put them in place.” 

That riled Proxima up even further. “This is so unfair! As long as you can trade, no matter whether it is useful or not, you can do whatever you want. Did you know Rixator and his gang have once again been taking food from the little ones? But none of that matters, because their family was wealthy enough to buy themselves a seat on the guild. They have others fighting for food, for shelter, for clean water even, but they themselves have plenty. They even throw away food! Good food, that others need so badly. And all that is okay? People are suffering while they can live whatever life they want. Something needs to change, Cardotius, this cannot go on.” 

Cardotius allowed her to vent, to blow off steam, but he seemed surprised when she directed her monologue to him directly. “While I think you’re correct on every account, I fear there’s nothing we can do but comply with the rules of the guild. You know banishment may as well be a death sentence out here, with nearly all resources in the close proximity being closely guarded. We cannot risk it. You cannot risk it.” 

The word ‘resources’ startled her. The man across from her noticed the change in her demeanour and looked at her questioningly. “It’s always coming back to the scarcity, isn’t it?” Her voice sounded close to fragile, even if she would never admit that. 

It earned her a nod from Cardotius. “The scarcity rules our lives. I barely remember the time before. And no matter how hard we try, there seems no way to fix the issue.” 

“What if...” Proxima started. Then she shook herself out of the dazed state she was in. “What if there was a way? But you knew that way would be going against the wishes of the guild. It may even go against your own morals. But it would solve the whole scarcity issue, for generations to come?” 

Cardotius looked guarded at that. “What do you mean?” 

“I...” Proxima decided against telling him. “I don’t know. But there has to be something we can do.” 

Both sighed, deep in thought. It was Cardotius who broke the silence. “I have no idea what you are referring to, but I will not pretend that I believe every move from the guild is the correct one. They have been trying to solve the problem we’re facing for so long now, but so far they have done nothing but fail at it. The only solution may indeed be one that the guild would not approve of. Still, there is no way to make anything happen that does not get reported back to them. They have eyes and ears everywhere, especially since bringing out-ruled activities to their attention may earn you food and clothing. Your morals, however... That is a question everyone will have to answer for themselves.” He continued hesitantly. “Sometimes doing nothing goes more against your morals than breaking them by taking action.” 

Proxima nodded. He was right of course. The old man stood up. “There was one more thing. And you're going to like that even less.” 

Proxima was close to covering her ears so she wouldn't even have to hear whatever was coming. But she figured that would bring her friend in trouble and she didn't want that either, not after everything he had done to defend her as much as he could. So she sighed and looked at him expectantly. 

“They want your sword to be taken away.” 

It felt as if the world fell away from beneath her feet. Her sword? That was her only valuable belonging, the only thing her parents had left her and her family had let her keep after they discarded her like something that belonged in the trash. They were going to take her sword? 

Tears sprung into her eyes and she noticed Cardotius wasn't completely unmoved by it either. “I told them that I would be the one to keep it. That it was the only heirloom you own and that our prime laws state they could not deny you that.” A double cheer to the pride that her people once had. “But you cannot use it. In their exact words: “Not as long as you intend to use it as a weapon.” You will be allowed to get it back again later, but it will need to be dulled by then. They did agree with me holding on to it, so I hope you trust me to keep it safe. I know what it means to you.” 

Proxima had no words. She could only swallow and will the tears away. she was being stripped from her identity, all because Rixator thought he could take a swing at her. All because women were not allowed to train anymore. All because of the scarcity. 

Cardotius gave her the time she needed to comply, but she knew he had to do what the guild had told him to. He could not disobey or risk being seen as a traitor, on punishment of banishment or even death. So she took off the fabrics that were holding her sword and pulled the weapon out of its restraints. She was glad that even in her daze she had been aware enough to clean it before returning here. She really did not want to imagine the face Cardotius would have pulled if she had forgotten to do that after the fight earlier. 

She held it out to him and he took it, reluctantly and with a deep sigh, before moving to the other room. She heard him shuffling about and had to try her best to resist peeking around the corner to see where he would put it. But she stood still, not moving a muscle. Her thoughts were running haywire, not only with everything that happened now, but also with the fight earlier and everything Thanos had said. Cardotius had agreed that they might have to do something the guild wouldn’t approve. But what did she think? 

Cardotius came back into the room, looking older and more tired than she had ever seen him. The meeting probably drained him, making her feel guilty about what she was putting him through. Still, he was the one she would always turn to if she was in doubt. This time was no different. 

“Cardotius, what if nothing changes with the scarcity. What would the consequences be?” 

Cardotius looked at her, seemed to gauge her, before answering slowly, as if he was thinking very hard on whether he should say what he was saying. “If nothing changes, not for the worse nor for the better, then our people will continue to live in the poverty we know now. The resources coming in are few, but right now they are enough for us to keep going. It would not be easy, but we’d manage.” 

Proxima felt there was more he had wanted to say, so she waited patiently. 

The old man sighed once more before continuing. “But I fear things are already changing. Each year, there are fewer resources to share and more mouths to feed. And above all that, storms are coming, even if we don’t know what they will bring yet. I fear for the survival of our people.” 

She saw the thoughts weighed heavily on him. Something had to change. And the opportunity had presented itself to her. All she had to do was take the chance. 

“Don’t worry, Car. I’m sure those storms will bring nothing will good. They have to, after all this time. Otherwise, the balance would be off by too much.” 

Cardotius smiled at that. “Don’t ever let that positivity of yours die down, Midnight. It is a quality that can brighten up whole rooms.” 

At that he left the room again, closing the makeshift door, which told Proxima that he was going to sleep. She figured it best to do the same, even if she feared sleep would be hard to catch that night. Still, she gathered some of the bigger pieces of cloth and laid herself down on top of them, against the wall opposite of the door. It was where she felt most comfortable, especially once the sounds of a certain old man sleeping reached her. Even tonight, it calmed her down enough to relax and even rest. 

~~~~~

It was early when Proxima woke, yet late enough to find Cardotius bustling around the room. He seemed energetic today, which probably meant that last night’s conversations hadn’t weighed him down too much. 

They greeted each other, ate a humble breakfast together before both of them went outside. With a stern look and a “Be careful,” Cardotius turned towards where the guild would be doing whatever it did when it was not discussing Proxima’s fate, leaving the young woman by herself. 

She decided to walk towards the market. Not to ‘harvest’ anything, as Cardotius would put it. Not that anyone had caught her doing anything against the rules there. Not in a very long time. Still, she wanted to be alone with her thoughts and somehow that was easiest in a crowd like the one that could be found there. 

It was indeed crowded at the market, but not because of the usual trades in goods. About half the stalls were empty and while it was not uncommon for those offering goods to not always be present, they usually made sure most of the stalls were filled. But not today. 

The closer she got, she clearer the problem became. “... as high as the trees, I say you! It was spreading so fast; we were lucky to even get out at all.” One woman said. The man next to her took over, pointing west, to where the biggest crop fields lay. “They’re still taming the flames, but they cannot get the water there quickly enough. Still, they refuse to use the clear water. Say the harvest is gone anyhow and they don’t want to lose the drinking water, too.” 

Proxima felt her heart drop. Storms were coming, Cardotius had said. How right he’d been. 

“Do they know what caused it?” someone in the crowd asked. 

A third man spoke. “Yes, it was one of last night’s cooking fires. No one knows exactly what happened, but some light kind of cloth blew into the fire and then away. Before anyone could stop it, it had landed on the dry crops and the fire was already reaching above our heads. There was no way to stop it.” 

Many voices rose at once, some claiming “That could have happened to anyone,” some less understanding. Most prominent was the tone and the thought that no one seemed to dare to say, but it was on everyone’s mind. With those crops gone, many would starve. This year would be hard and the question was if they would be able to regrow everything before next year. 

Proxima had heard enough. Her mind was overflowing and whirling with options and arguments and counter-arguments and counter-arguments to her counter-arguments. She was torn and felt awful. Seeing children being hungry and not being able to do anything about it was hard. Too hard. 

Being wrapped up in her head, Proxima didn’t pay any attention to her surroundings. Not until she received a push so rough it sent her tumbling backwards onto the ground. When she looked up, she felt the anger rise to her throat. 

“If it isn’t little Prox! I hadn’t seen you there. What are you doing down there? Are you already practising what it will be like as a lowly worker, begging for scraps?” Rixator and his gang laughed loudly. 

Proxima was less amused, getting up with as much dignity as she had left, dusting off her pants and turning back into the direction she had come from, away from that bully of a man. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” she heard. Her pace quickened. But so did theirs. 

“You cannot just ignore me,” Rixator said, falling into step next to Proxima. Watch me, she thought. 

“My father told me that you tried to frame me for what happened. Oh, how we had a laugh about that. We both agreed it was completely your own fault, walking around with a weapon like that, pretending to be a fighter,” he kept going. She kept trying to ignore him, but not only was it becoming more and more difficult to stay silent, he was starting to get physical as well, pushing her shoulder as he spoke. His gang was still following him around like toddlers tend to do with their mothers. 

Rixator then pulled on her hair and she whacked his hand away, coming to a stop but still not facing him. 

“What is it? Did they take your tongue as well as your sword? Father told me that he tried to keep them from taking it away from you, you know? That crazy old bat that you stay with so often. What did you do to make him like you so much? You’re a little whore, aren’t you? I mean, it must have taken a little more than just being a poor, hungry orphan to get the attention of a man like that. Did you start that young, Prox?” 

It took every fibre in her body to not act on that. She kept telling herself that exile was not worth it. That Rixator was not worth her attention. That no matter how satisfying the punch would be, the consequences would be terrible. She really tried her best and it worked all the way until Rixator said: 

“They all believe that delusional man to be so wise, just wait until we expose him for the fraud he is.” 

The crack of bone sounded before Proxima was even aware that she had moved. There was a howling sound, but it was not coming from her. Her hand tingled but she was barely aware of it, feeling again as if her feet had left the ground. 

She was done for. 

No matter how many people would have seen the taunting and the pushing, all the guild would see would be her throwing the first and only punch. And the blood that was now flowing freely from Rixator’s nose. He looked at her angrily, but what exactly had he expected her to do after that taunt? Hit him nicely in the shoulder? He should have known her better than that. 

As he and his gang sped away, towards the building of the guild, Proxima stared into nothingness, once again trying to get her thoughts sorted out enough to get her legs to move. People around her stared for a moment, before once again going about their work, unaware of the significance of the event they just watched. 

Right before Proxima was ready to walk back to her cabin to start on packing her things, a girl passed by, bumping into her harshly and not even looking back. Proxima blinked once, looking into the direction where the girl had disappeared, but she couldn’t see her anymore. Was that...? 

Only then she noticed the little piece of paper that had been pushed into her sleeve. It was a little crumbled up, but the handwriting was neat enough even for an inexperienced reader like Proxima to be able to read it. 

_ Midnight,  _

_ at the bridge.  _

_ Come alone. _

Yes, it had been. The girl she fought was the one who bumped into her, to give her the note. Thanos’ call. She had to make up her mind. 

Then again, after everything which had happened today, the choice really wasn’t too difficult, now was it? 

She was about to start again into the direction of Cardotius’ cabin when the crowd parted as if they had been pushed aside with a big hand. It turned out not be a big hand that had them moving away, but it was Cardotius himself, running at his old age, looking horrified. His face only seemed to turn some darker shade of grey when he noticed Proxima. 

He ran closer. “Midnight! You must leave! They are out for blood.” He was slightly out of breath, but his hand was tight around her arm. His voice was fearful as he continued. “They have gone mad, Midnight. You must leave now, before they find you.” 

He pulled her in the direction she had been about to walk to, talking soft enough for the people around them not to hear. “Your sword. It is in the lower drawer in my bedroom, wrapped in a cloth. Take it and all the provisions you need from that and the drawer above. But make haste, they are sure to come look there. I will try to stall them as much as I can.” He let go of her hand, but she was hesitant to leave him. To get her to move, he pushed her gently. ”Go!” 

That, along with his urgent tone got her moving. She ran as if her life depended on it. Hennum! Her life did probably depend on it! She had reached the cabin in no-time, sending the door flying and speeding into Cardotius’ room. She had never been in there before, allowing the elder the privacy he craved every so often, but she didn’t take the time to look around properly. Instead, she threw herself at the drawers, yanking the lowest one open en feeling for the long, hard metal of her sword. It was easy enough to find; Cardotius had carefully laid it onto several layers of cloths and clothing. 

She grabbed it and some of the pieces that seemed like larger sheets, figuring she might need to use those to sleep. She then yanked open the drawer above it, to see what other supplies Cardotius had been referring to. In it, she found several bottles which could hold water, some small knives which would be perfect for gathering food, and some stones that were helpful to create fire. She took as little as she thought she’d be needing, not sure whether she would need anything at all, wrapping it all up in another cloth before getting up and speeding out of the cabin again. From not too far away she could already hear the angry voice of Rixator rising above all the other noise. But she didn’t wait to see. She ran. 

~~~~~

She was completely out of breath when she reached the bridge, coming to a halt. It was completely abandoned and for a moment she thought she must have made a mistake. But this was the only bridge that she knew of that was away from all the people. Had she misunderstood after all? 

But her doubts were wiped away when the big, purple man appeared from underneath the trees. “Ah,” he said. “I’m glad you found us. Neigha mentioned things were heating up in there. Did you make a decision?” 

Proxima tried to slow her breathing, but between having run so far and being as nervous as she was, there was no way. “Yes,” she answered. “My answer depends,” she took another breath, “on whether you honour my conditions.” 

Thanos nodded and motioned her to continue. “How do you choose who lives and who doesn’t?” 

“We try to be as random as possible, taking one out of every two people we find and dividing them like that. It is the best way to ensure diversity will remain, even if the numbers are reduced.” 

Proxima nodded at that. “Then my conditions are as follows. Rixator and his father are to be among those who don’t get to live. And Cardotius will be on the opposing side. If those conditions are not honoured, I will not join you.” 

Thanos seemed to think for a moment. “Is this Rixator the one Neigha told me about? The one who taunted and tormented you?” She nodded. “And Cardotius in the one who helped you get out?” Another nod. “Then so be it. We will honour your conditions if you follow the Black Order.” 

At those words, a group of people stepped away from the treeline, into sight. It was a very colourful gathering, of all kinds of sizes and colours, all kinds of species. Everyone had the same look in their eyes, leaving no doubt that they all belonged together. 

“We are ready, Thanos,” one of them said. 

Thanos nodded at that. “We will begin soon. Midnight needs to catch her breath if she is to help us properly. Please bring her up to speed. She will be going in with the last group.” He then walked away. 

The person, Proxima wasn’t sure whether it was a man or a woman or whether that species even knew that dichotomy, walked over. “You’re a swordsperson, right?” Proxima nodded. “Good, that makes this easy. You are to follow me and my group. We’ll be heading in last, as the final defence to make sure none escape. You are to try to not harm them, but they cannot get away. We will be gathering everyone on the field that was burned this morning. There they will be divided and balance will be restored. But that is a task for those dim-witted soldiers. We are only here to make sure none escape.” 

Proxima nodded again at that. “Have you done this before?” 

They looked at her and said: “Yes, we all have. All of us came from a planet that had lost its balance.” 

Before Proxima had time to think about that statement, everyone around them sprung into action. The one who had explained the plan to her looked at her. “Are you ready? We are moving in. Remember, stay with us.” 

Proxima followed, not sure whether she was actually ready. But she felt like there was no turning back now. As they got closer to the buildings, the chaos became more and more apparent. Screams sounded and there were children crying. Proxima flinched, but that was the only movement that she allowed herself before they crossed the borders. The group spread out, but Proxima stayed relatively close to the one who explained it all. They didn’t say anything about it. 

They came across several people on the run, away from the chaos, but they slowed when they saw Proxima, looking to her for guidance, an explanation or anything else that they could hold on to. The first time, Proxima looked at her guide, waited for their nod of approval, before turning to whoever it was that was clinging to her like she was their lifeline. “You need to go to the field. Everyone will be waiting for you.” She repeated that to everyone they found. And they all listened. They turned around, eyes wide with fear, and they would move towards the field, back into the chaos. They trusted her completely, not once did they question why she sent her back to what had them running and Proxima had to swallow down her emotions to not get overwhelmed by the uncertainty of whether she was doing the right thing. 

As if they could sense that, her guide stepped closer after she had sent yet another one to the field. “You’re making the tough choice they wouldn’t make. It’s the best way to save your people.” Proxima nodded again, not trusting her voice enough to either answer or make her doubts known. She just hoped they would not run into any other people, especially not ones she knew by name. 

Her wish was heard. As they arrived at the field, Proxima noticed the two groups had already been divided. She figured it better to not focus on who would be in which group. They came to a halt close to Thanos. He turned to her, nodded, and raised his voice. “Before we balance the scales, we need to honour an agreement. Would Rixator and his family please step forward.” 

There was some disturbance among both groups as Rixator, his father, mother, brothers, and other family members walked forward. Thanos addressed them curtly, not allowing any emotion to come through. “Please walk over to the left side.” The family did as he had asked, too fearful to even think about disobeying. 

“Would Cardotius please step forward.” This time it went with less tumult, as the group made way for the old man to pass. Proxima noticed his face sported a big bruise and he walked with a slight limp. Her blood boiled, but she knew the payback would come. Thanos would make sure of that. 

“Please walk over to the other group.” His orders seemed to confuse everyone, including the soldiers that had not been waiting at the bridge and therefore had not heard about the agreement Thanos and Proxima had made. Everyone felt the anticipation grow and it sparked anxiety in most. “Now please even out the groups again, but leave those I just ordered to change groups in their respective groups.” 

At that, some soldiers stepped towards the group on the left, grabbing people in what seemed to be a random way at first, but once they were done Proxima noted that just as many men and women were brought to the right as there were men and women from Rixator’s family that had had to switch sides, minus one male for Cardotius. 

She had only just come to that realisation when the shooting began. At first, it seemed mesmerizing, the lights shooting out of the spears being like something from another life, but it soon turned too much. Proxima turned away slightly, finding it difficult to watch all those faces she had spent all her life around filled with fear before going completely slack and falling to the ground. She feared that the voices she was so familiar to would keep hunting her as the screams that sounded now. 

A big, purple hand landed on her shoulder, giving her strength. She did was had to be done. There was no other option and no time to find one, not anymore. Something had to change. And now it did. 

As the last person on the left side fell lifelessly to the ground, the hand fell away and those that Thanos had named part of the Black Order dispersed, giving Proxima a good view of the massacre. But instead of allowing her eyes to linger there, those faces and voices already etched in her mind as they were moments ago, she looked at the group of the living. Some were still huddled together, only keeping each other upright. Others had walked over to the other group to find someone they had lost. But Proxima was only looking for one person. And he seemed to have been looking for her. 

They walked towards each other, Cardotius grabbing onto her with unsteady hands and tears in his eyes. “Oh, Proxima, was this what you meant?” 

That question might as well have been a slap to her face. Cardotius never called her Proxima, only if he had to speak to her in front of the guild. But she tried not to let it hurt her. He had told her that she had to weigh her own morals and she had done so. Now she had to live with that. 

“Something had to change,” was all she said. 

Cardotius nodded solemnly. “I understand why you chose this, but will not pretend I agree with your decision. This...” He motioned towards the quiet field that only held crying people. “I’m not sure this is the good kind of change. But time will tell.” 

Proxima nodded at that, scared of what was to come. His quiet disappointment felt even more difficult to take than to see her people fall down and know she had played a part in that. She looked down, tears forming in her eyes. 

Cardotius sighed, before wrapping her up in a tight hug, catching her off guard. “I hope this won’t have been an action you will come to regret. You know there’s no way for you to come back here now, do you?” 

Before there was time for her to respond, a deep voice sounded from behind. “She can leave with us, if she wishes. She is most welcome to join.” 

Proxima looked at Thanos, then back at Cardotius, before turning back to Thanos. “I would very much like to accept that offer.” It earned her another tight squeeze from Cardotius, but this time it felt like he agreed with her. She had finally found an opportunity to be the warrior she wanted, a group where she would not be held down for being a woman. She had seen the opportunity and made a choice. 

Thanos nodded at her answer and raised his voice. “Let today be known as the day that Midnight rose from her shadows and joined her family, the Black Order!” The crowd around him all shouted and clapped as in victory, as a welcome. 

Thanos then motioned for her to step towards him. She first turned back to Cardotius, gave him one last, tight hug and a whispered, “stay strong, Car. These people will need someone like you to guide them now.” 

Cardotius nodded and gave her a few words of advice that would stay with her forever, as they sure were the wisest words anyone had ever said to her. She then stepped away and turned around, towards Thanos. He put a hand on her back, guiding her to follow the rest of the Black Order. Of her new family. “Come, child,” the man said to her. “It is time to move on. You did well here. Now it’s their time to mourn, before they start their new and better life. A life we have no part in.” 

Proxima knew he was right. Still, she could not help but look back once more. Cardotius was still facing her, even if he seemed to be talking to the people standing close by. He raised his hand in a small wave and she returned the gesture. As her hand dropped down and she turned back, she steeled her shoulders. Time for a new beginning. Both for her people as well as for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you noticed anything off, please let me know. Constructive feedback is always appreciated. You'll get virtual cookies in return.  
> -Love  
> Sharonneke95


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